


By a Higher Love

by CaptainSlow



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Benny has an explanation to do XD, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, stop doing each other in my head for gods sake, they'll drive me insane I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 18:06:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17771669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSlow/pseuds/CaptainSlow
Summary: "So that's what it is then, public porn, huh?" Joe asks.





	By a Higher Love

_I can taste more than feel_  
_This burning inside is so real_  
_I can almost lay my hands upon_  
_The warm glow that lingers on_

_Moved, lifted higher. *©_

*

Morning greets Joe with pale February light and a mild case of hangover, which, considering how careless he was with various kinds of drinks at the BAFTA after-party last night, should perhaps be considered as big luck. With a yawn, he rolls onto his side and bumps into the solidness of a body which could only belong to one person. Rubbing his eyes, Joe experiences an odd _déjà vu_ moment with a certain video he posted on Instagram himself the other day, with the only difference that there's only one Ben in his bed and he's not at all surprised to see him here. Joe sleepily smirks to himself, marvelling at how fast it's become  _normal_  to wake up feeling the warmth of Ben's skin against his own.

"Hey buddy," comes the greeting, and there's an unmistakable smile in Ben's quiet voice.

Joe chuckles happily as he doesn't seem to be the only one having some flashbacks to that infamous video they filmed.

"Feeling all right?" Ben asks in a teasing manner, apparently expecting Joe to be in a rather sorry state after last night.

"How did the party end, huh? I seem to be having a temporary fit of amnesia," he mutters, throwing an arm across Ben's midsection while trying to decide if the mild headache he has is going to transform into something more severe later.

"You got drunk and sauntered around harassing everyone telling them you were my jealous boyfriend," Ben replies, sounding unexpectedly pleased, and covers Joe's hand with his own.

"Oh did I?" Joe frowns.

"Were being absolutely obnoxious."

"Was I convincing at least?" Joe asks, vague snippets of how he was trying to shoo Gwil away from Ben finally starting to resurface in his mind.

"So much that I think they took it as a joke," Ben huffs, running the tips of his fingers over Joe's knuckles lightly. "Just like with that video you posted. Something tells me that even if we decided to announce that we're together, no one would take us seriously thinking that we're simply trolling everyone."

To this, Joe grins, suddenly feeling very warm at the way Ben said that _'together'_ part. The _not quite_ joke with the video he posted on his account turned out to be predictably excellent, and he really wishes he could also share the second part of it depicting Ben brushing his cardboard double off the bed with such disdain as if it were some infuriating pest and then stating complacently that there is only room for one Ben in Joe's bed. That particular video, sadly, contains some way too explicit footage, too, so it has absolutely no chance of going anywhere at all. Still, it'd certainly make a sensation, and Ben is right, the funny thing is, with the existent amount of joking they've done so far, the majority of people most likely wouldn't take them seriously anyway.

Hilarious as it was, there still is something which keeps nagging at Joe, even though his common sense tells him he's being an utter idiot.

"So that's what it is then, public porn, huh?" he asks, propping his elbow into the pillow so that he could see Ben properly, and lets the fingertips of his other hand gently tickle their way across Ben's toned abdomen.

He is opting for a joking tone, and he certainly means what he says as a joke, but there's still some twinge inside him, a pang of something vaguely resembling hurt and offense. Joe doesn't particularly like either of those feelings and he's certain both are completely absurd if looked at reasonably – it's goddamn Instagram, how can anyone possibly take anything that's written or posted there seriously – but he can't help them just like he can't help keeping his mouth shut about it.

Ben turns his head to glance at him, seeming genuinely surprised. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and that twinge of resentment is substituted by one of affection so profound it hurts Joe even more, and it's completely beyond him why it should evoke that dull ache in his chest at all. It's been almost one and a half months since the moment they let this affair go its own course, and even though Joe's woken up in Ben's arms on numerous mornings, he still can't help being surprised that this is really happening, that they're really sleeping together, that there's love involved, and that Ben can look back at him with this much tenderness.

"Oh my god, are you _really_ jealous?" Ben asks so quietly his voice turns into a purring murmur. There's a smile stretching his lips, mild and just a tad taken aback.

"Me?" Joe asks instead of a reply, raising his eyebrows. Then, unbeknownst to himself, he draws them together, as if really giving it a thought. Was that pang of hurt a sign of jealousy? Is there any reason for him to be jealous at all? "Well…" he trails off and plops back onto the mattress, scratching his head.

"Joe, are you fucking serious?" Ben actually chuckles this time, but his surprise grows palpably stronger.

He rolls onto his side and snuggles closer, then lifts himself up on one arm, looking down at Joe in a searching manner. It leaves only a very short few inches between their faces and it seems to make the pang in Joe's chest transform into a light flip of his stomach. A few strands of Ben's blond hair slip out from behind his ear and fall across his brow. Ben blows them off impatiently.

"No, but... well, I might be?" Joe huffs and locks his eyes with Ben's. His intonation rises at the last couple of syllables, as if he's asking Ben instead of answering his question, asking him if he should perhaps be allowed to be jealous now that they have this… this thing going.

In his turn, Ben only keeps looking at him, silently, an amused expression on his face, as if he's studying some alien but nevertheless peculiar new form of life. A corner of his mouth rises even more, making a dimple appear on his cheek. 

 _Oh well_ , Joe thinks.  _All right, I_ am _allowed to be jealous, after all, aren’t I?_

"Ben," he asks softly and pushes back the wayward fair locks behind Ben's ear again. "Were you jealous when Gwil and I kept leaving that photo of us all over the place so that you could see it, eh?"

"But it was just a silly joke…" Ben trails off, frowning, apparently giving it a second thought. Then he huffs and shakes his head. "Well... In retrospect, I think I must have been, a bit… or maybe a bit more than _a bit_."

"Well…" Joe shrugs as if it explains it all.

"Oh for god's sake, Joe…" Ben smiles down at him. "You do know that that comment was a joke, too."

"I know it was, but…" He shrugs again.

With a sigh of blatant disbelief, Ben lowers himself on top of Joe, flush against the front of his body. Joe's arms go up to wrap themselves around his waist immediately all by their own accord, thus securing Ben in his embrace as if he's afraid the latter could simply disappear.

"Come here…" Ben whispers and traps Joe's head in between his hands, palms resting against Joe's temples, warm and gentle. "Look, I am here with you in one bed, naked, waking up next to you for I don't know which time over the past month, after you fucked me into total oblivion last night, and you're still thinking I'm not serious?"

Joe huffs and gives Ben a little shake of his head, feeling simultaneously absurd, ashamed and relieved. "I… can't help it."

"Joe, I  _love_  you," Ben says softly, sounding incredulous. "You jealous fool."

" _Your_  fool," Joe chuckles, just as quietly.

" _My_  fool," Ben agrees, willingly enough. "My  _love_. There's no one other, Joe, stop being paranoid. Andy's a good friend of mine, but he's a  _friend_. You're my man. Come to think of it, you should probably meet each other at last."

"Perhaps we should," Joe sighs.

"Well, listen," Ben grins, and it makes him look even more dazzlingly beautiful. "I couldn't exactly have said that, sorry mate, I'm currently infatuated out of my mind with my co-star Joe Mazzello, I'm also sleeping with him on a regular basis and it's not a joke  _at all_ , right? I mean, perhaps no one would have got surprised anyway, but it's still taking things way too far. It's not for Instagram. Am I even making any sense?"

"You are," Joe sighs. "I'm sorry, it's ridiculous but I can't help it. I want you mine. Only mine."

"I  _am_  yours. Your hand is on my arse, Joe, your dick was  _in_  my arse last night, whose else's can I be?"

At this, Joe does laugh, genuinely enough at that. He can't for the life of him resist giving that glorious ass a possessive groping.

"Oh my god, all right," Ben sighs and shakes his head.

He does look a bit exasperated, but that's only a tiny fraction in the face of another emotion which is much more obvious. It is in his eyes, and in his smile, warm and radiant, and Joe cannot take his gaze off him because, handsome as Ben is by nature, love makes him plainly ravishing. There's a pretty blush on his cheeks, making a pleasing contrast with his fair skin, his lips are darker red than they normally are, moist because the wet tip of Ben's tongue runs over them time and time again. Joe looks at him, silently because he wouldn't be able to find any words in any language to express what he feels anyway, just like he doesn't need any words to know that Ben feels the same thing, just as profoundly. Sometimes, with the intensity of this emotion, Joe doubts it is love at all, thinking that it should be something else, something even more profound and compelling, some gift from a higher power they were granted for whatever reason. And then, even if there were words so that he could spin them together to describe it, after all, not a sound would come out of his mouth anyway, because his vocal cords simply wouldn't cooperate. Because, yet again, he is speechless and breathless, enchanted out if his mind and beyond speaking ability. It's not the first time it's ever happened – pretty much any moment of intimacy he and Ben share is just like that, astounding – but the emotion never gets dull or less intense.

"What can I do to assure you that you're the one I adore, huh?" Ben murmurs meanwhile, carefully lowering himself on top of Joe until they're lying flush against each other from head to toe.

Joe feels the ticklish brush of Ben's pubic hair against his thigh and the soft press of his genitals at the same spot. He hooks one of his legs over Ben's, thus effectively securing him in this position, making that light but promising touch more substantial, and he realises he's wrong – it's not exactly soft, not anymore. In response to it – perhaps to the mere knowledge that he's the one who's the reason of Ben's arousal – Joe feels himself grow harder almost instantaneously, too. Apparently feeling it, Ben grinds his hips against him, pressing himself into Joe, and the choked sound that leaves his mouth is sheer music to Joe's ears. He loves eliciting those gasps, small and only half-voiced, so deliciously shaky in their desperate quality.

" _This_ ," Joe replies, suddenly out of breath, too.

Simultaneously, he rubs his thigh against that hardness that's pressing to it, now feeling the moisture on his skin, too. Ben moans softly, and Joe feels all those enviable muscles in his body strain.

"I want to hear it," he whispers, voice unsteady, one hand entangled into Ben's hair, the other pressed to the spot between his shoulder blades, fingers splayed against the hot feverish skin under which those sinewy muscles roll. "I wanna hear you."

Then he pushes Ben gently but persistently onto his back, thus switching their positions and they roll over the expanse of the bed until Joe ends up on top of him, kissing Ben for all he's worth, suffocating but not giving a damn because this is the asphyxia he can't help yearning, time and time again. It's addictive, this pleasant light-headedness that is invoked by Ben's kisses, by his lips and that nimble, skilful tongue if his. Gulping for breath, Joe slides his open mouth to Ben's cheek leaving a trail of saliva behind, and, holding him firmly with his fingers entangled into the fair locks, he turns Ben's head so that the entire expanse of the side of his throat could be exposed to him. He relocates his hungry mouth there, to the madly throbbing pulse, licking his way down along one of the visible veins on Ben's neck.

"Joe," Ben gasps, wheezing, sounding almost completely deranged. His hands squeeze on Joe's shoulders and then relocate to the small of his back in one smooth caress, pushing his pelvis against his own.

 _So fast_ , Joe thinks, still unable to take his lips off that reverberating patch of skin on Ben's throat, sucking at it with self-absorbed determination. It's astounding just how rapidly this thing grabs hold of them – five minutes ago he was pitying himself for his hangover, and now he's all turned on and barely able to breathe because of just how desperately he needs Ben.

If it's just porn, then at least it's the very best kind of it, his inner voice stubbornly pipes in, but Joe shuts it off by force. It knows nothing, this silly voice. It'd be utterly absurd to define something like this as porn, to degrade it to such label. It is sexual, of course, but there's another layer to it all, desperation mixed with urgency mixed with sensuality, and none of those are cause by sex itself. It's more the other way around, the physical longing is the outcome of another, more profound emotion standing behind it, one which leaves Ben stripped to his very soul in Joe's arms. He can feel Ben's hands shaking against his back, he can feel Ben's quivering breaths on his face, he can feel Ben's pounding heart against his lips, and he knows what it's caused by – it's more than mere desire.

Ben's erection is now rock hard against the inner side of Joe's thigh, so some measures must be taken in the immediate future. Besides, Joe's dying to _listen_ to Ben riding high on the waves of sexual arousal and want. So, unhurriedly – and it's excruciating both for him and must be for Ben, too – Joe leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses which leads down along Ben's neck, down to that delicious hollow between his collar bones and then further to his chest which, too, vibrates with powerful thuds of Ben's heart beneath it. Simultaneously, he finds Ben's arms and slides his palms along them until his fingers close around Ben's wrists as he pins them to the mattress. Ben's breath hitches again, and, with a smile, Joe slips his hands into Ben's, interlacing their fingers.

"Oh sweet holy fuck," Ben breathes out, unsteadily, and pushes his hips up in a desperate attempt to intensify the friction between them. "What are you… how are you doing this to me?" he asks, and his voice sounds half-plaintive, half-pleading.

Joe's reaction might be ill-timed, but he can't help it – he laughs breathlessly, with virtually no sound at all leaving his mouth, and what does is muffled against Ben's chest. But it's still laughter, an absolutely joyful kind of it, and it's plainly astonishing that so many of the kisses they've shared since this affair of theirs began have been just like this, smiling, full of joy and giggles. He could do whatever he's doing now for an eternity on end, just to be able to hear Ben saying it again and again, choked, desperate, unravelled by virtually nothing at all but Joe's closeness.

Still smiling, he relocates his lips down, to that tender spot where Ben's ribs join together and where his breathing is the most prominent. His hands let go of Ben's and move to his nipples, fingertips moist with sweat first rubbing then squeezing then pinching them until Ben moans again, and in unison, his cock twitches noticeably against Joe's stomach.

"Oh you like it a bit rough, Benny?" he asks, grinning, grazing his skin with his teeth, which nearly makes Ben howl.  

He would, if he had any air left in his lungs, apparently. As it is, what leaves his mouth is a strangled wheeze. At the same time, jerkily, Ben arches his back and the tip of his cock brushes against Joe's chest, oozing viscous drops of pre-cum and smearing them against his skin. He's obviously close, and it's a wonder because Joe has done nothing at all below his waist, yet anyway. That said, he's close to the edge himself, and he hasn't touched himself either – it's all courtesy of those sweet, choked, desperate sounds Ben is making.

When Joe's kissing path finally brings him to his destination, the slick, flushed tip of Ben's dick, Ben himself seems to be in a state of such urgency that he lets out a groan before Joe has even taken him into his mouth – all he's doing is merely breathing on his cock. Knowing that he's torturing the poor sod but unable to stop himself from doing so because those sounds are simply priceless, Joe does just that – moves his open mouth along Ben's engorged shaft without actually touching it with either his lips or his tongue, instead letting his breath do the caressing. When he reaches the base of it, he sticks his tongue out and licks the tender patch of skin at the junction of his cock and his testes.

"Joe please," Ben gasps, and when Joe lifts his head to look at his lover, he sees Ben staring at him with clouded eyes and flushed cheeks and tousled hair, and he looks absolutely, wonderfully debauched. " _Please_ ," he repeats licking and then biting his lips, and this time it's Joe's turn to suppress a howl, because, heaven have some mercy, it's illegal to look this purely, dazzlingly oversexed.

"I wanna eat you," he mouths shaking his head in astonishment.

Closing his eyes – because looking at Ben is just too much, he'd love to but he cannot, he'd go insane because Ben's just simply out of this world, way too motherfuckingly gorgeous for his poor human mind to cope with – Joe lets the tip of his tongue draw a wet line along the underside of Ben's cock back to its head, the skin feeling soft as silk and scorching to the touch, and even though he's not doing it for the first time, the sensation still bears the titillating aspect of novelty to it. It's one thing to hold your own cock in your hand and jerk off, and a totally different one to be able to feel the smooth thin skin moving and sliding over the rock-hard shaft beneath it without any physical sensation provoked in his own penis. It's now a purely tactile sensation, and it's absolutely mind-blowing.

Somewhere in the world which doesn't consist solely of Joe's mouth and Ben's dick, Ben groans but Joe barely hears him this time – it seems like every single receptor of his has focused on his lips and tongue, on the taste of Ben in his mouth, somehow bitter and salty and masculine and so much  _him_. Joe kisses the tip of his cock, teasingly letting his lips slide over and his tongue swirl around it, making Ben twitch and gasp, and then finally takes him into his mouth.

He's not yet particularly skilled at it, and he's nowhere near capable of taking his entire length in, but it doesn't really matter. What does is the smooth, velvety hot press of it against his tongue. It makes Joe grow harder than seems physically possible as if it was him who was being blown. He could never have thought before that having somebody's dick in his mouth would feel this heavenly and this arousing, but here he is, giving Ben head with extraordinary enthusiasm and feeling like the happiest man alive. It doesn't take him long to drive Ben to the edge, but Joe makes himself consciously live through every second of it, catch every single gasp and sigh and quiet, chocked curses Ben lets out, and most importantly, every single, breathless _'love you'_ , and the more Ben repeats it, the more it winds Joe up, propelling him closer to yet another doubtlessly magnificent climax.

Ben comes into his mouth with an asphyxiated gasp, and Joe doesn't have enough presence of mind to pull back. He  _doesn't want_  to pull back, he wants Ben, all of him, every single drop of his semen – call him greedy and possessive, what the hell – so he milks and then sucks him dry, not wishing to part with this sticky slippery messy warmth. He only stops when Ben's hands claw at his shoulders as he tries but fails to pull Joe back to himself.

"Come 'ere, Joe, please," he mutters, voice hoarse and raspy. "Hold me."

 _Hold me_. It pushes Joe one step closer to his own finale. He wants to tell Ben that he's always there to hold him. He wants to tell him that it's the most profound bliss for him to be allowed to do it. He wants to tell him just how much he's in love, but he cannot utter a single syllable, both because he's turned on beyond speaking ability and because there's too much he wants to tell Ben, and all of it can actually be expressed without any words whatsoever.

So Joe crawls haphazardly up into Ben's open arms, being immediately enclosed into an embrace so tight he can barely drag in a breath, and then Ben's hands press to his cheeks, pulling him closer, and then Ben's mouth is on his mouth, open and wet, and then there's Ben's tongue and it seems to be everywhere, teasing him, swirling inside and brushing against his teeth and lips, as if Ben's desperate to catch the remaining aftertaste of himself on Joe's own tongue. At the same time, one of Ben's hands slides all the way down in between their pressed bodies until it finds Joe's cock. Ben's fingers wrap around him, unceremoniously and knowingly but at the same time incredibly gently, and this time it's Joe's turn to let out a tremulous whimper. His teeth close lightly on Ben's lower lip as he comes, thrusting madly into the firm hold of Ben's hand, sliding in and out of it now that the friction is smoothened with his own semen. Then he crashes on top of Ben, secured into his incredibly satisfying bear hug, with his face nuzzled against the junction of his neck and shoulder.

His mouth is still full of Ben's taste, and his nose is now full of Ben's smell, that of his shower gel and shampoo from the last night, warm scent of his skin mixing with a newer, fainter one of sweat, and somehow, it's the most reassuring smell he's ever felt. It evokes the feeling of security and trust and support, and Joe loves it as much as he loves Ben, because this scent _is_ Ben. They spend a while like this, letting their breaths return back to their normal rhythms, not talking, just holding each other. From time to time, Joe opens his eyes, focusing them on the dim ray of February sunshine spilling through the half-drawn curtains into the bedroom, watching the miniscule motes of dust swirling in it. For some reason, Joe feels like one of those tiny particles suspended in the air and being relentlessly drawn by a force they've got absolutely no idea about.

On the other hand, it's not strictly true – he does know the name of the force, of course, and he doesn't need Ben to prove it to him or tell him anything to convince him as to the nature of it. He feels it with every square millimetre of his skin and with every fibre of his soul, he feels it in the strength of Ben's embrace and in the way his lips press to his forehead to leave there an occasional soft kiss and in Ben's breathing, finally calm and even, landing softly onto Joe's face. It's not at all about porn and it's not for anyone's eyes, no matter how much they manage to compromise themselves there in public. The most important, the most precious things happen here, behind closed doors of their homes or hotel rooms, away from prying eyes of others, and once again, Joe is astounded to know what it is without having to utter a single word, to be able to feel it, to know it's mutual.

But Ben does elaborate it in words, all the same, for which Joe couldn't be more grateful to him.

"Joe?" he calls softly.

To his astonishment, Joe notices that his throat reverberates as he speaks and it's like being able to  _taste_  Ben's voice. Joe can't help kissing the side of his neck for the life of him and the way Ben's hand tightens briefly on his shoulder makes him experience that free fall sensation again. It seems that the further it goes, the less this thing depends on him, if it ever did at all, really turning into an uncontrollable dive induced by inevitable gravitation force, and it's simply pointless to even try to resist it. It's beyond his power no matter what outcome it may lead to. Joe doesn't think he'd be able to stop anyway, not now, not even if it promised to spell disaster for both of them.

"Mhmm?" he hums in response, manically dragging his lips over that pulsating vein.

"It's not at all about sex," Ben murmurs. "I mean, the sex is great, but it's not the only thing about… about us. I used to think it was just that, desire, but like fuck it is," he huffs softly. "The hardest time I had was having to admit to myself that it's more than that, more than just physical appeal, but I'm glad I managed to scrape some courage to do so. It's about the way you make me feel, and the way you make me look at the world when I'm with you. You're one of the most interesting people I know, and the kindest, too. I can't put it into words just what exactly it's like to return into your arms every night and what a fucking torment it is to let you go when we part. I can't stop being grateful that we're living today, that we're actually allowed to do  _this_  with virtually no fear at all, that we can be together just like this, that you can come to London and stay in my house pretty much not giving a damn about what anyone thinks if they see us here together. That thing about porn was meant for Instagram, Joe. You're the closest person I have, and I think you're the closest I've  _ever_  been to anyone. All the joking on Instagram may go on forever and turn into whatever, but it has little to do with what really is," Ben swallows, sighs and then goes on, even more softly. "It's got nothing to do with _us_. I love you like I never loved anyone before."

As Ben started to speak, in that hushed, hoarse voice of his, pronouncing words so very quietly and slowly, which made them sound more earnest somehow, Joe already knew that this free fall of his was unstoppable, but now that Ben's finished, he finds himself not in a free fall but in a head-over-heels tumbling plunge, so much so that it takes his breath away and makes something in his chest clench so tightly he's momentarily afraid something in his body has just given in. And then it lets go, filling him with warm fuzziness, which is much less terrifying but still very hard to bear.

With an effort of will – because it's always way too damn hard to move away from Ben – Joe lifts his head from his shoulder to look at him properly. What he sees doesn't help in the slightest – Ben's much too handsome, and that look of glowing affection on his face and in his shining eyes, looking openly into his, unblinking, makes Joe's stomach do another pleasant somersault.  _Is this really happening?_  he asks himself for perhaps one thousandth time and comes to a stunning conclusion that it is, that this look of love on Ben's face is reserved specifically for him.

"I…" he begins and trails off because his voice doesn't obey him.

Joe feels his lips move but not a sound comes out. Even though he wants to say so much, express all those various profound overwhelming feelings he's drowning in, he simply cannot string even a couple if syllables together, let alone connect words so that they could make sense. So he swallows and shakes his head, unable to take his eyes off Ben.

"Never thought you could be this gentle…" he tries again, not sure he is making sense, though.

"Well, there's a lot of things you might not know yet," Ben smiles at him fondly.

"Will I ever?" Joe asks, still feeling absolutely out of his element, but it's a good 'out of his element' thing.

"Fair chance if we keep this going."

"If…" Joe mutters, not looking directly at Ben. Instead, his eyes run over the features of his face, pausing on his lips and eyes and the tip of his nose as if he were mesmerised. "Being with you feels so fucking good I sometimes think I simply won't be able to stand it."

"You'll have to, babe," Ben smiles at him, fondly. "I'm nowhere near done with you yet."

 _Babe_ , Joe thinks. Why doesn't it sound even remotely absurd to be addressed like this?

"Good," he murmurs.

"So, does it assure you I'm all yours then?"

"It assures me that you're a fucking treasure, Ben," Joe says softly, unable to take his eyes off Ben's, almost hypnotised, and why not? He very well might be. This thing they're having, it's not chemistry, it's pure magic that happens between them every time they're around each other. "And now I'll probably be even more jealous."

"Oh you bloody idiot," Ben laughs and rolls his eyes, but he sounds happy and relieved. His hand reaches up to bestow a gentle caress to Joe's stubble covered cheek. "You've no reason to be, Joe."

"I love you with all my heart, my friend," Joe replies, barely pronouncing the syllables at all, but he's sure that in case his voice betrays him, Ben will be able to read his lips. "That's all the reason I need."

Then he closes his eyes and lowers himself back into his previous position, half on top of Ben, nuzzling the side of Ben's neck, feeling with inexplicable satisfaction and delight how Ben's arms pull him closer, enclosing him into a tight, secure hug. He could never have thought that another person's breathing could be this delightful, but it turns out it can and it is, because every single breath Ben takes, every single thud of his heart that reverberates through that vein in his throat Joe's lips are pressed to, the sheer living warmth of his body, are a blessing in itself.

"I don't know which higher power I should send my thanks to, but I am grateful for you every single day of my life, Ben," Joe murmurs and blindly searches for Ben's cheek. When he accomplishes that, he feels Ben turn his head, which is followed by the soft, warm, moist touch of his lips to the middle of his palm.

Joe screws up his eyes with a happy sigh.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This just happened. Because I simply couldn't. Because that video, and those dorks' comments. Send help.
> 
> *the title is related to Depeche Mode's Higher Love, and the initial quote is also from that song.


End file.
